I was driving through Tekonsha on Mi 60, and I came to a fruit stand that filled me with the urge to listen to some androgynous music. Finally I stumbled across Ziggy Stardust singing,
“Here comes Dick, he’s wearing a skirt
Here comes Jane, y’know she’s sporting a chain
Same hair, revolution
Same build, evolution
Tomorrow who’s gonna fuss?
And they love each other so
Closer than you know, love each other so
The next song I heard in my dream was some kind of rift off of the Eagle’s “Hotel California;
Last thing I remember, I was
Countering their lore
I had to turn their worldview back
To the Calvin it was before
‘Relax,’ said the ordained man,
‘We are programmed to deceive.
You can argue anything you like
But we will never believe!’
And my dream turned even more surreal with men in skirts in pulpits lisping as they read something about being pilgrims and strangers in this land, yet feeling quite at home with their six figure income and book sales. As they deposited their checks they chanted “in this world we have no continuing city.” Koreans pressed for their autographs while they boasted about how they had people in their congregations on both sides of the “gay” marriage issue. In my dream the babies that had been aborted, as the men in skirts had remained silent in their pulpits on the issue of abortion, were now speaking at the men in skirts ordination services mentioning something about how as little ones they had been offended by the silence of Escondido. Chris Gordon was there giving the Benediction while obviously dreaming himself.
And then a great dream arose within the first dream and ate the first dream from the inside out, like Jonah eating his way through the great fish, and in that dream I dreamed I saw all men praising God in the public square. I saw D. G. Hart, Mike Horton, and R. Scott Clark urging their students to become men like John Knox, Samuel Davies, and R. L. Dabney. (I told you it was a strange dream.)
In my dream David Van Drunen and Matt Tuininga sat at a table as tweedle-dumb and tweedle-stupid playing ping pong. The ball they were hitting back and forth had stamped on it “surrender.” In the corner of the room stood Jacques Rousseau and John Locke arguing with Roger Williams and Anne Hutchinson over who was the most responsible for R2K theology. Periodically they would suddenly become doubles partners playing against Van Drunen and Tuininga in a round robin ping pong tournament.
Van Drunen, Tuininga, Williams, Hutchinson, Rosseau, Locke, D. G. Hart, Gordon, Horton, and Scott then suddenly were violin virtuosos who played with great dissonance while in the background the cultural Marxists were going all arsonist on the building in which they were playing. But it was all alright because people were getting saved while everything burned down around their violin concert. Van Drunen, Tuininga, Williams, Hutchinson, Rosseau, Locke, D. G. Hart, Gordon, Horton, and Scott suddenly began to laugh maniacally as they played faster and faster and the walls burned hotter and hotter because they had always predicted that this is how it would all end anyhow. The hotter it burned, the more they laughed and the more they laughed the hotter it burned.
Suddenly, in my dream Scrooge was there but as converted to the Escondido Jesus. He was lecturing to me about the desire to reduce the surplus population of theonomists in the Church. He said, and I quote;
“Every theonomist idiot who goes about with ‘God’s Law’ on his lips, should be burned alive with his own copy of Bahnsen’s “Theonomy in Christian Ethics,” and buried with a stake of general equity through his heart.”
Then in my dream I saw, as it were, two air tight compartments which in no wise could be pierced by the other except as by hallucination. As I had one hallucination I was regulated by the Escondido magisterium. As I had another hallucination I was regulated by a unnatural natural law.
Then I awoke from my dream and opened my Bible and the place where I landed was this:
“Be ye not conformed to this world but be yet transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
I realized that the impulse of the Anabaptists to retreat from the world was exactly the spirit that had overcome me.
In my dream of trying to leave this world I found that there was no way to do that. Every action or lack of action on my part was impacting everything. How was I to be effective if I were to re-build the monastery? Cowardice was driving me and I suddenly remembered that no coward was ever saved. I realized that I must die to my desired retreatism and must once again seek to be a warrior for Christ. I realized that it was I myself, by my retreatist theology, who had created divisions and disunity in the church and that I couldn’t blame everyone else. I must die to my desire to be conquered by this present evil age. I realized that I too must die to myself, along with my own vision of how I want to see Christ’s kingdom come by not coming and by not contending for it.
It was Jesus who said that upon the confession that Jesus is Lord, Jesus would build His Church, and I realized that I was not confessing Jesus in the public square. I had forgotten that the early church had always been arrested for sedition and not because they were worshiping secretly in the catacombs. I realized that, truth be told, I care more about not being persecuted for righteousness sake than I cared for aborted babies.
Back to Tekonsha, Mi, confident in my calling to be a witness to wicked potentates so as to be as a shining star in a dark universe, I decided to go.